


Beneath the Ice

by ValmureEld



Series: I Tried Not to Get Into the Witcher and Look Where That Got Me [8]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Cannon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Kinda pushed the lines a little fight me, Light Romance, Magic, Missing Scene, Near Drowning, Whump, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValmureEld/pseuds/ValmureEld
Summary: Caranthier may have lost, but his determination to take Geralt down with him may very well have succeeded were it not for some magical intervention.





	Beneath the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> So that bad things happen bingo going around Tumblr? Screw the card, I've decided to do the entire prompt list. 
> 
> This fill is for: Falling Through the Ice

The water was so cold that it shocked Yennefer to her core.

She blinked, gasping, doubling over as her heart stuttered and began to race. She looked around, frantic, knowing that the overwhelming sensation of cold and panic was not hers. A moment ago, Geralt had been above the ice, his sword flashing in the dull light as he clashed and clashed again against Caranthier’s ruthless attacks.

Caranthier was nowhere to be seen, but neither was Geralt.

Her boots slid on the bloodied ice as Yennefer ripped open reality and ran out onto their battlefield, looking around desperately for her lover. The ice was not broken in any obvious way that would show her where Geralt may have fallen in, and she realized with a shock and a snap that Caranthier must have teleported them deep below in a last-ditch effort to take Geralt to the grave with him. Fury built inside of Yennefer and she turned in a circle, her boots carving a half moon in the ice as she felt out for Geralt’s presence.

She found him as a warm place in the midst of a bitter cold, and with no regard for her own safety she tore open the barrier of space between them and hauled Geralt out of the water herself.

The shock of icy water was so complete she hardly registered the bitterness of the pain. She was too focused on Geralt, on dragging him to an overhang as he coughed and sputtered and his steps faltered.

“Easy does it just try to breathe,” she coaxed through her own sudden shivering, wishing she could conjure heat so he wouldn’t be breathing in more of the cold. As it was, she needed both hands to help keep him upright. She had no room to gesture or harness her magic. Not until he was seated.

“C-cciri, we have to keep,” he shuddered and half fell into the wall as she guided him to sit down against it. “Keep moving,” he managed, hugging himself futily. He was soaked to the bone and as she knelt next to him and conjured heat the magic of the Hunt’s frost flared in his magical signature like an infection.

Her lips pulled into a sneer of anger and she ground the heel of her hand aggressively into his breastplate, earning a startled sucking of air and an alarmed glance from Geralt as she drove heat magic into his body.

“T-that doesn’t,” he shuddered, his eyes rolling as he felt the cold roil around inside him like a living thing in its death throes. It was an awful, strange sensation. He gasped, his breath actually starting to fog again. “Seem safe,” he finished, his heart pounding against her hand and his breastplate.

“It isn’t,” Yennefer admitted, her teeth grit with concentration even as she said a quick spell to dry her own clothes. It would do Geralt and Ciri no good if she allowed herself to become hypothermic too. “But the magic the Hunt used to freeze you is still in your blood and I am turning it against them. Every point of cold is now a place I can plant a flame, and it should save you from suffering the same fate as our allies." Her brow furrowed as she glanced back at frozen soldiers.

Geralt shuddered again and closed his eyes, concentrating on breathing through the painful prickling as Yennefer’s magic set his blood alight and forced heat back into his aching muscles. It was like something was clawing its way through him, breaking open reserves of heat that shocked and stung before seeping in and reminding him what it felt like to be alive.

Yennefer watched him with concern twisting through her, one hand on his chest, the other reaching for his hand to squeeze it. “Easy, witcher. Don’t betray me now--your resilience is what i’m counting on to stave off shock.”

“D-doing my best, Yen,” he panted, cracking an eye open to shoot her a chagrined look. His teeth ground together and he was pale with the pain of it, but his lips were no longer blue and his body had stopped its violent shivering.

Soon enough, she was able to press a kiss to his bowed forehead and cease her magical assault. His skin was warm, even hot under her lips, and his breath fogged steadily between them. His eyes met hers and he reached up a hand to cup her jaw, pressing an urgent, hasty kiss to her lips. 

She pushed him back, her eyes hard as she stood and offered him her hand. “Don’t,” she said, her tone clipped as he accepted her hand and she pulled him to standing. “Don’t say goodbye like that.”

She held his hand and his gaze for a moment longer, a lifetime of understanding passing between them.

Their fingers slipped apart.

And they went back to the fight.

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely cannot remember what Yennefer was doing during the boss fight (There's so much content and it's been more than a year--maybe two since I played that battle) so I just pulled her in because even with Geralt surfacing on his own he should have had serious hypothermia risk. 
> 
> (Honestly what is with the Wild Hunt game thinking Geralt doesn't, I don't know, need a core body temperature above lukewarm?)


End file.
